


Empty

by YesBucky (Dooba)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Don't ask me how timelines work I don't know, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Endgame AU of sorts, Lonely Bucky Barnes, M/M, Not a fix-it I've been told, Not entirely Avengers: Endgame movie compliant, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:29:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24772420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dooba/pseuds/YesBucky
Summary: Sam said it would get easier.It doesn’t.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 7
Kudos: 41





	Empty

**Author's Note:**

> Based on (part of) a Dutch poem. My English translation is underneath it. 
> 
> I wrote this in an hour as an Endgame fix-it but I've been told that's false advertising since this isn't a fix-it. This is how I imagine it could go though, sticking as close to the original plot as possible for someone who hasn't actually watched Endgame. 
> 
> I chose the rating because of Bucky's suicidal ideation. If this is difficult for you to read, feel free to come talk to me. Detailed description of what happens in the endnotes.
> 
> Thanks to Sri for instant support, for being brutally honest and for helping me take this story to a higher level!

_De wereld is wonderlijk leeg zonder jou._

_Er staat maar zo weinig meer in._

_De hemel is aldoor zo hinderlijk blauw._

_Waarom? Wat heeft het voor zin?_

_De merel zit zachtjes te zingen in 't groen._

_Voor mij hoeft-ie heus zo z'n best niet te doen._

_De wereld kon vol van geluk zijn, maar nou:_

_leeg, zonder jou._

_Annie M.G. Schmidt, Zonder jou, 1947_

_The world is curiously void without you_

_There’s really so little left_

_The skies are constantly annoyingly blue_

_Why? What’s left to be said?_

_In the trees, a blackbird is singing its song_

_He thinks he has to - well he’s wrong_

_The world could be filled with happiness, but now:_

_void, without you_

* * *

The apartment is silent. Bucky can’t even hear his own footsteps, has drowned out the faint sounds of the traffic below. He doesn’t want to be here, and soon, he won’t have to. 

He doesn’t know where he’s going yet, but he’s not staying here. Here, in the home he shared with Steve, where he’d thought they’d build a life together, finally have that future they always dreamed about, back when Steve was still small and sickly and his time running out, and later, when Bucky was still going under Hydra’s brainwashing every so often and they didn’t know if his mind would ever be fully his own again. 

And then Steve left him. Like Bucky left Steve - on the train, after the helicarrier, when he went into cryo voluntarily and when he disappeared after the snap - Steve left him to _go back in time_. To go back to Peggy. 

Bucky wants to be gracious about it. Wants to say he understands. 

He doesn’t. 

Steve didn’t even warn him. Not really. Just left. 

Like. Like what they had meant nothing. Like Steve and Peggy actually were building something before the plane crashed in the ice. 

Till the end of the line. 

_Sure_. Uh-huh. 

Bucky’s bed is too empty at night, his sheets never enough to warm him up no matter how many blankets he piles on there. Steve’s bed is even worse. 

Not that he sleeps much anywhere, at all.

The apartment is too big, too quiet, too _much_. 

It’s been three months. 

Sam said it would get easier. 

It doesn’t. 

Steve left him here, to live and die alone in this alien world he doesn’t understand. Sure, everyone’s nice to him. But nobody gets him like Steve did. 

Then again he guesses Steve didn’t get it either, because he chose to go back. 

Bucky didn’t want to come. There’s nothing left in his past that he would care to find again. He could’ve followed Steve, but. But. 

It’s easier to deal with rejection when your face isn’t rubbed in it every second of every day. 

‘Sides. He kinda likes the present. Internet. Quality food. Netflix. Tiktok. Sam. 

But it doesn’t have Steve. 

At first he thought Steve might come back. He tried to picture it, Steve an old man, gray in his hair and beard, laughter lines around his eyes. But Steve never came. 

Didn’t even come to fucking see him and let him know he was happy about the decision he made. Bucky doesn’t even get _that_ peace of mind. 

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose to keep the tears at bay. For decades he was drilled not to cry. He’s cried all those tears over the past three months. It’s a miracle he has any left. 

The apartment is tidy, his fridge emptied, his dishes done, his bed made. 

His quiet breaths echo in his ears. Even his heartbeat is loud. He’s been careful not to give any hints as to where he’s planning to go. He just wants to disappear for a while. 

“You shouldn’t have saved me.” Bucky whispers. “What use is life if you’re not in it?”

His voice cracks and he clears his throat. He’s not sad about leaving this world. After cryo, after Thanos, he knows there is nothing to fear. He’s sad about leaving Steve, who is in a different timeline, building the life he deserves. 

He’s sad, period. 

Time to go.

He swallows, looks around the place that causes him so much pain once more, and starts for the door. He frowns when he can hear the elevator come up just as he’s about to leave. 

Bucky curses under his breath. Considers locking the door and pretending he’s asleep, just in case it’s Sam with well-intentioned advice. But Bucky’s made his decision. He made it the day Steve disappeared into the past. 

He plants his feet and is solemnly planning on not letting himself be talked out of anything when the elevator doors open and.

And. 

Steve.

Bucky sways.

“Bucky, thank god you’re home,” Steve says. 

He looks… awful. His body covered in grime and soot, his forties style slacks (slacks!) ragged and torn in places. His lip is busted and his eye is well on its way to being fully swollen shut. 

Bucky says the name he hasn’t said in three months. “Steve?”

“Hey pal,” Steve says. “Wanna give me a hand?”

Bucky moves before he can tell himself not to and wraps an arm around Steve’s waist. Helps him limp inside. Steve smells of old sweat, gun powder, and ozone. Bucky wants to howl at the familiar scents invading his senses, overtaking his being and flooding him with memories.

He helps Steve sit down on their couch, plants himself on the coffee table. “You wanna tell me what the fuck?”

Steve smiles impishly, hiding his face from view. When he looks back up, he really takes Bucky in. “You look like hell.” 

“Don’t change the subject,” Bucky says, iron-jawed. He gestures to Steve in a get-on-with-it motion. 

“I uh. Fixed a few things. Back then.”

Bucky doesn’t speak, just cocks a brow. 

“Y’know. Made sure you didn’t fall from the train. Ended Hydra before they could really take off.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“You would’ve wanted to come along.”

“While you went on your suicide mission? Gee whiz, I never knew you were so sharp.”

“Bucky,” Steve says. He reaches out for Bucky’s hands, winces, and pushes through so he can touch Bucky. 

Bucky looks down, frozen, his entire body responding at the contact. He’s been so _lonely_. Couldn’t deal with hugs from anyone. Just his hands feeling the warmth of Steve’s skin is almost too much to bear. 

“I’m sorry I left, okay? I did it for you. I created a better timeline for them.”

Bucky looks back up at Steve. “You went back for _her_.” 

Steve looks properly chastized. “Saying that was the only way you’d let me go.”

“You little shit,” Bucky breathes. Pauses. “You gave your shield to Sam.” 

“Yes. I meant it when I said I wanted to retire.” 

“And now?”

“Now what?”

“Are you staying? Or are you planning on leaving again?”

“I could never leave you. Don’t you know? I’m with you till the end of the line Buck. In whichever timeline that may be.”

Bucky bites his lip. Doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to trust Steve again. 

He wants to. 

God, he _aches_. 

“Will you kiss me?” Steve asks, voice timid. 

Bucky does, a sob escaping him when their lips touch. Any doubt Bucky might’ve had that this Steve might be an alternate version of himself fades when they slot together like he remembers - the way Steve’s lips are still silky soft, the way his tongue slides into Bucky’s mouth.

It’s good. 

It’s _home_. 

He shuffles Steve into the shower, patches up his already healing wounds and tucks him into bed after. Orders an express delivery for groceries and starts cooking a starved supersoldier-worthy meal.

His goodbye letter is torn up in tiny pieces and shoved carefully to the bottom of the trash. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Comments are kindness!
> 
> Suicidal thoughts (here be spoilers!):  
> Bucky is planning on ending his life because Steve left him. He thinks about it, how he's not scared. He has made preparations for his great escape. At the end of the story it becomes clear that he has written a goodbye letter.


End file.
